KEYNote: If it's Mandalorians speaking with Mandalorians, they are speaking and thinking in Mando'a. Stewjoni is a dialect of Mando'a that Obi-Wan has been taught though in this story he doesn't have the accent. New Mandos also speak Mando'a, at least in this timeline.

Thank you, Muffin!

Chapter 5 - One Day

It was not a pretty sight, the fallen Padawan's head separated from his body, missing an arm, and all the wounds were cauterized —a clear indication of the weapon that inflicted them.

She kept seeing flashes in her mind's eye, as other Knights and Masters faltered in their shielding at the sheer shock of it.

Death had come quick, but it had been brutal.

Save for the fountains themselves, the room was quiet.

Qui-Gon knelt on the ground, his cloak pooling around him hunched over the body.

Xanatos was dead.

Tahl couldn't help but feel relieved that it wasn't Obi-Wan.

"Qui-Gon—" she started, reaching out a hand toward him.

"Get away from me!" he snarled, his rage radiating off of him.

She withdrew, and it was Mace who caught her elbow.

He walked her out and not until they were clear of eavesdroppers did he say, "It was Obi-Wan."

She jerked.

She had felt Obi-Wan tug at the bond they shared, new as it was she thought he was alerting her to danger in the Temple.

Her first thought was selfish in the face of Qui-Gon's loss, and she spoke it aloud, "He could have died."

She sensed Mace's amusement, "He was quick enough with it that the youngling he saved didn't see the fight or the aftermath, only a brief glimpse of a red saber."

"You approve?" she asked, curious.

"If it was a choice between a traitor and the lives of a youngling and a Padawan, then yes, I approve. But you realise the rest of the Council will not. Qui-Gon will not."

Her heart sank. "He did nothing wrong."

"Xanatos was well known in the Temple. As such, it is known that he left the Order to live with his birth father. It is not so well known that he had fallen and was a Dark Sider. Qui-Gon did not share openly that he killed Xanatos's father nor that Xanatos turned to the Dark Side. The Guard knew, the Shadows knew, but it was not gossiped about. It was a quiet tragedy. This tragedy will not be so quiet and it will take time before the truth over Xanatos's history is known and acknowledged."

It took her a moment to process that. "Obi-Wan is not a Jedi Killer."

"He killed a senior Padawan nearly twice his age," Mace said.

Tahl winced. "What do you want me to do?"

"Prepare him," Mace answered. "He will be questioned as an adult and the rumours will not be kind."

"He saved a youngling."

"He's a Mandalorian and he killed the Padawan of a Master who has already lost a student to the Mandalorians," Mace said.

Tahl sighed.

Day One.

And they were off to a great start.

oOo

Jango hated this.

He hated everything about this.

His Buir ran a hand through his hair.

Jango ducked their head, "Why are we here again?"

"To make friends," Jaster chided.

"They don't want to be friends."

"Which is why you're going to help me change their minds."

"I don't want to be friends with Clan Kryze," Jango retorted.

Myles chuckled.

Jaster glared at them both. "Too bad, ad'ika. You are the son of the Mand'alor and you wish to one day be my second in command. Politics is a part of that."

Jango huffed but didn't refute him. Things were tense in the Mandalore system.

Jaster was the people's Mand'alor, chosen both by the clans who lived in their system and the ones that were scattered throughout the wider galaxy.

Meanwhile, Tor Vizsla was the Mand'alor of planet Mandalore, the planet in their system that had the most Beskar deposits in the known galaxy.

Or in other words, Tor had all the corrupt officials on his side, held the majority of travel contracts that controlled the flow of trade through Mandalorian space—one of the largest convergent points in the galaxy connecting the Core to the Outer Rim, and had a bunch of the worst guilds on his side.

What Tor didn't have control over were the moons, nor all the planets other than Mandalore that orbited the Manda Star. Not even Stewjon, a farming colony that traded exclusively with the Kryze Clan and fed the rest of the system.

It was probably the only reason Duke Kyrze could keep up his infamous pacifism.

Attack Clan Kryze and Stewjon would stop exporting. If Stewjon stopped exporting, half their populace would starve within a season.

The Stewjoni were the most singularly stubborn race among the Mandalorians, and yes, that was a remarkable accomplishment. Some said the Stewjoni came from a race even older than the Taung. They were a race that didn't give a rancour's tit about money or power.

They were a free people, who gave freely of everything they had or were, be it food, shelter, or more sensual delights.

The food they grew defined the rest of Mandalorian cuisine. Yet it wasn't easy farming like on Concord Dawn where Jango had been raised, no. Stewjonians grew spices on cliff faces, collected herbs from dense jungles and farmed crops in wetlands that held many unseeable dangers. Despite the work and the danger, they gave freely to any who asked.

But force them to do anything? Force them to give up their food, their customs, and their bodies, and they would tear you apart.

Figuratively and literally.

In the past, Stewjon had been targeted by slavers. They were prized for their 'talents' and considered blessed in Mandalorian culture for their races' ability to conceive ade be they male or female. Half the populace had fled into hiding, abandoning their crops entirely. The few that were found and sold into slavery needed to be kept drugged and chained because they killed themselves at the first opportunity.

No, the Stewjoni were not meant to be trifled with. Their treaty with the Kryze family was simple, Stewjoni crops in exchange for their freedom to live as they wished and their continued isolation. Stewjoni were not, in any shape or form, pacifists, but they were shielded from the wars that ravaged the rest of the Mandalore System.

Of course, if you were not Mandalorian you weren't even allowed to visit.

The Kryzes got to be the benefactors of this deal, despite the fact that it was a contract the whole of the Mandalore system upheld, because the Kryzes were the descendants of an imperial family of both Stewjoni and Taung descent.

It made the Kryzes untouchable.

At least, in theory.

Because the great clans were angling for war. Jaster, Jango's adoptive buir, was not interested in a civil war, but Clan Vizsla was thirsty for it.

The moons of Mandalore were distancing themselves from the tyrant Tor was proving himself to be. While the cities were hanging on, the smaller towns and villages on the surface, some of the mining towns included, were resisting the more draconian laws.

They were suffering for it.

It felt like everyday someone came to Jaster requesting his aid. Jaster refused because the numbers weren't yet on their side. The core of the True Mandalorian movement was still too few.

The True Mandalorian movement was less than a decade old, made by Jaster himself, whereas the Vizsla's were a lineage cemented a thousand years ago.

A longer line of Mand'alor's there had never been.

Jango knew that it was important that they get the Duke on their side.

The Beskar mines were invaluable.

But you couldn't eat Beskar.

So Jango would play politics, because in being named Mand'alor, Jaster Mereel, leader of the True Mandalorians, it was akin to a declaration of war. Even though Jaster had never asked for the title, he had never spurned it either.

Tor Vizsla was too much of a coward to challenge Jaster to a personal duel.

No, Tor was having fun pillaging Concord Dawn and Concordia, having fun hunting the True Mandalorians and their sympathizers. What Tor wouldn't do was target the planet of Kalevala and its moons for fear of Stewjon cutting off exports.

The other planets and their moons, Akaan, Tracyn, Mandallia, Bonagal, or Werda, were not so lucky. The planets Nag and Skukut had fallen in line behind Tor Vizsla, lacking the populations to resist by fighting. But they didn't support Tor, they just agreed not to fight him.

As they descended into Kalevala's orbit, Jango couldn't help scowling at the cliffside palace.

The Kryzes had a wealth that Jango as a farmer had never known.

Mandalore was wealthy, with its cities and towns, but the area they landed in was pristine. It was a castle of stone with no settlements in sight.

"Stewjon looks like this," Myles said, breaking Jango from his thoughts.

"Barren is not how I picture Stewjon," Jango said dryly.

Myles waggled his brows, "You're fifteen Alor'ika, we all know how you picture Stewjon."

Jango flushed.

Jaster shook his head, "Stewjon looks like a tropical version of this, the core of the planet is so hot that they never experience winter despite being so far from the Manda. Kalevala gets cold."

"Cold enough that only these dar'manda would live near the ocean," Montross spat.

Jaster pointed at his second, "You will be polite or say nothing at all."

Montross raised his nose to look down at Jaster who was over a head shorter before ramming his helmet on his head.

His way of saying he would be silent.

Silas smiled, her dark eyes slanted with mischief as she joked, "I think I prefer him that way."

Jaster tisked at her as Mij, Silas's buir, gave her a chiding look.

Not pissing off Montross was a part of keeping the inner peace of Clan Mereel.

If Jango was guilty of not always keeping the peace, then Silas, their youngest member at fourteen, well, she was the prime culprit of chaos.

"Jango, keep your helmet off," Jaster said, hooking his own helmet to his side.

"Buir!" he protested.

"Them letting us bring weapons is a huge concession on their part, Jan'ika, and the Kyrzes do not wear armour at all."

"Their guards do," Silas piped in.

Mij, their medic, led her away with a hand on her shoulder to chastise her on his own.

"Kryzes do not wear armour," Jaster repeated.

"It isn't my fault they are idiots," Jango argued.

Jaster cuffed his ear.

Jango squawked, the sting being no pain at all, but still.

"Your head is hard enough for protection, Jan'ika, against the weaponless royals to whom the Stewjoni pay homage."

Jango bowed his head, "Sorry, Buir."

"Behave," Jaster gave as his final warning as their flagship landed.

Jango followed at his buir's side, closer than Montross who, in choosing to keep his helmet on, dropped back as a part of the Mand'alor's guard.

Mij and Silas were the only ones out of their group of twelve who had opted to join Jango and Jaster in the madness of meeting strangers without their helmets.

Duke Adonai Kryze smiled at them, welcoming them as if they were old friends.

Prince Adyn scowled at them all, as did Princess Satine while the youngest Princess Bo-Katan—who couldn't be more than ten years old—bounced on her toes to look at them around her siblings' rigid stances.

Out of the four royals, only Bo-Katan looked as if she had inherited the flame-hued hair of the Stewjoni, the others being as blonde as the nobility on Mandalore.

These people were born into power, whereas Jaster had earned his position. It rankled that they needed their help.

They were set to be here for at least three months, Jaster representing the interests of over three dozen clans scattered throughout their system.

They needed Duke Kryze to promise to distribute Stewjoni spices and corps.

What did the True Mandalorians have to offer in turn?

Jango didn't actually know, but he supposed he would have time to learn.

Of all the things Jaster had dragged him into, he was far more ready for a rogue bounty, or even a skirmish with the Watch, than he was for the politics of pacifists.

Mandalorian Pacifists.

Ugh, Manda preserve him.

oOo

"I am confused," Obi-Wan said slowly. "I saved a youngling. I killed a Sith. What is the problem?"

"A Sith he was not," Master Yoda said.

Obi-Wan threw up his hands, "He had a red kyber, he tortured a kyber crystal. He betrayed his own soul. He attacked a youngling in the Temple, that is a death sentence."

"The Jedi do not execute criminals," Ki-Adi Mundi said.

Obi-Wan blinked at him, "What?"

"We do not execute people, Padawan Kenobi," Master Mace Windu said.

"Yes we do," Obi-Wan argued. "The Sith—"

"The Sith are no longer a threat," Yarael Poof said, cutting him off.

Obi-Wan gritted his teeth, "I lost my memory, not my mind."

"How do you mean, Padawan Kenobi?" Master Dooku rumbled.

Obi-Wan's gaze cut to the Master, the Grandmaster of the fallen Padawan Obi-Wan had killed.

He was not cowed, not when he could see the darkness in Master's brown eyes.

"Do the Jedi exist?" Obi-Wan asked.

Master Dooku arched a brow, "Obviously."

"Then the Sith exist," Obi-Wan annotated. "The Sith are not our opposites. They are our reflections. A fallen Jedi becomes, eventually, Sith. They are what the Force makes them."

"The Force does not make the Darkness," Master Sifo-Dyas said.

"No," Obi-Wan agreed. "The Force absorbs darkness. Life gives light, joy, love, hope, but living beings also give fear, hate, greed, and sorrow. It is what you train us to do, to give our fears and frustrations to the Force, in turn, the Force guides us forward. But if you take, if you turn to the Dark side, the Force takes from you. The more you take the more the Force takes until there's nothing left and all that remains is the Force."

"All that remains is the Force?" Master Mace questioned.

Obi-Wan frowned at him, "Yes, the Sith are power, raw power, the Force unfiltered."

Obi-Wan felt the Masters' instinctive objection, their distaste thick on his tongue.

Master Tahl tensed beside him.

"You make it sound aspirational," Master Dooku said, breaking the unnatural quiet.

Obi-Wan scoffed, "Unfiltered. Without morality, power without restraint, without reason. The Sith are greedy, as likely to kill their vode as their enemy. They are chaos, they are the embodiments of all the pain and horror the Force collects from the living. If you encounter a Dark sider, no matter how young, no matter what kind of Jedi they were before they fell, you kill them because they will hurt others, purposefully and accidentally. It is a mercy."

"Killed before, you have," Master Yoda stated.

Obi-Wan glowered at the little Grandmaster, "Yes, surely that is on my record."

"Hesitate, you did not," Master Yoda accused.

"He was older and bigger than me," Obi-Wan exclaimed, astonished that he had to explain this at all. "And he attacked a youngling."

"Yet you admit that he was merely a fallen Padawan, not a Sith," Master Dooku remarked.

Obi-Wan turned his glare back to him, "He was a Jedi, he fell, time and the Dark side of the Force would remake him into a Sith."

"There are other Dark Siders in the galaxy, besides fallen jedi" Master Dooku offered.

"Of course," Obi-Wan said. "Like the Dathomiri Zabraks. But they don't use the Force the same way the Jedi do, it is filtered by ritual, their planet, and the plants of their world. The risk is mitigated, they aren't taking from the Force, they are just listening to its darker songs. Corruption is still possible, but it isn't as guaranteed as the way a fallen Jedi instinctually uses the Dark side."

There was a quiet, this one more contemplative.

Master Jocasta Nu spoke, "Your peers will not understand your defence."

"What defence!?" Obi-Wan exclaimed. "If I had not acted it would be a youngling's death we mourn, not one of our fallen."

"Master Qui-Gon Jinn has already taken his retreat on his pilgrimage," Master Jocasta said.

"We are not against you," Master Mace promised.

Obi-Wan wasn't one to look for gratitude, but to be reprimanded for this was absurd.

"But you are a Mandalorian," the Vaapad Master continued. "And no matter the conviction of this Council, we cannot control the rumours. We will make it clear that Xanatos was fallen, that he betrayed the Order, planned an assault on the Temple, and was stopped in his attempt to harm a youngling. But Xanatos was popular, he had many friends among his peers. If you, Obi-Wan, were a Knight, I would not be so concerned.

"But you are a Junior Padawan. And I predict the rumours of the Mandalorian Padawan slaying a Senior Padawan will find a more virulent audience."

"I predict," Master Sifo-Dyas said. "That Master Tahl and Padawan Kenobi will be travelling among the stars before the consequences of such rumours could be felt."

Master Sifo-Dyas was a Seer.

Obi-Wan turned on Master Tahl and questioned, "Master?'

She had told him, assured him, that no matter what, she would be with him.

Master Tahl sighed, "Obi-Wan, our community is small. And quite frankly, I am sick of the healers. I told you weeks ago that I had plans to return to the Jedha Temple."

Obi-Wan was not thrilled about the circumstances, however, he was willing to take just about any excuse to get the hells off of this cursed planet.

But something else she had said caught his attention: small?

The Jedi community was small, there were over hundreds of thousands of Jedi scattered among the stars. It was the Sith who were small at only ten thousand or so.

Maybe she just meant at the Temple, the Temple did feel rather empty at times.

"I do want to see the Jedha Temple," he said, earning himself a relieved smile from Master Tahl.

"I doubt," Master Mace said. "Healer Che will be pleased with us, but I would approve this request for travel."

The rest of the Masters concurred, though Master Jocasta seemed particularly reluctant.

It wasn't until they got into the halls and were alone did Obi-Wan ask his new Master of only a day, "What in the Sith Hells was that?"

She ruffled his hair, "No longer our problem, Padawan mine. No longer our problem."

He was not satisfied by this answer, but for now, he let it be.

After all, she wouldn't be able to avoid his questions in the cabin of a ship caught in hyperspace.

oOo

AN: Thoughts, hognose sneks, or feedback, pretty please?